


i'll be the one you won't forget

by folignos



Category: Hockey RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folignos/pseuds/folignos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Andrew's defence, it was totally an accident, and he can't be held responsible in any way, shape or form. No, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be the one you won't forget

**Author's Note:**

> jenna made me do it.
> 
> eventually i will write something with actual plot involving these idiots. today though, you get drunk dialling booty calls and accidental threesomes. enjoy! eternal thanks to jenna for a) fixing my commas and b) complaining about the english (correct) spelling of words
> 
> title from ke$ha's timber
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://toewses.tumblr.com) for more hockey hijinks!

In Andrew's defence, it was totally an accident, and he can't be held responsible in any way, shape or form. No, really.

He thinks it's probably Kaner's fault, when it comes down to it. The dude just kept pressing shots into Andrew's hands left, right and centre, and it's  _distracting,_ and anyway, they just finished finals, he can cut loose a bit, okay? 

So yeah, maybe he's a little drunk when he fumbles at his phone, poking at the touch screen with one finger. 

The voice on the other line is scratchy when he picks up, sounds like maybe he was asleep. Some distant part of Andrew's brain feels vaguely guilty, but his mouth says, 'Babe! You should come over! Leddy's crashing at his girlfriend's, we can fuck on the sofa!' 

'We're not having sex on the sofa,' Bolly says, but he sounds fond, and totally like he's open to arguing the point. 

'Yeah, yeah, okay,' Andrew says, frowning at he realises his beer is empty. 'Come over in like half an hour. Bring takeout, I'm  _starving_.' 

Bolly grumbles, mutters something about MSG and real food and says he'll be over in a bit. Andrew fistpumps, and shouts across the room to Kaner, 'Yo! Beer me!'

Andrew  _loves_  college. 

- 

He makes it home like ten minutes before Bolly's due to arrive, and he totally makes it on his own, hits the right button on the elevator and everything, but he might be a little bit drunker than he thought, because Bolly arrives and he buzzes him up, flings the door open when Bolly knocks and... 

It's not Bolly. 

Saader is wearing one of Andrew's UChicago hoodies and shorts. There are loose curls of hair poking out from underneath his toque, and his cheeks are flushed red from the cold. 

He's handsome as fuck, half smile on his face wavering slightly while Andrew stares at him, but... he's not Bolly. 

'You're not Bolly,' Andrew says. 

The smile drops completely. 'Who's Bolly?' Saader asks, suddenly looking confused, and a little hurt.

'I... just a guy?' Andrew says. 'What are you doing here?' Saader's face just falls, and Andrew backpedals, and kind of wishes he was just a little bit more sober for this. 'No, I mean, not that I'm not glad to see you, I'm always glad to see you, but... did I call you?' 

Andrew racks his brains, thinks back to the phone call. Could he have called Saader instead of Bolly? It's not entirely outside the realms of possibility, he thinks, they're right next to each other in his contact list, and he's not all that great at fine motor control even when he hasn't been drinking, his thumbs are way too big for such a tiny keyboard. He stops, drags himself back on track. The voice on the other end  _sounded_  like Bolly, but it was a loud party, and yeah, Andrew's drunk, sue him for not being able to distinguish between two fuzzy phone-voices. 

'Yeah?' Saader says, looking slightly less hurt, but he still hasn't stepped into Andrew's apartment.

Oh. Everything makes so much more sense now. Andrew grins, and wraps his fingers around Saader's exposed wrist. His skin is cool, and Andrew's never understood why he keeps the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up even in March. He's not even going to comment on the basketball shorts. Saader only lives like a ten minute walk away, but there is  _snow on the ground_. 

Americans are weird, Andrew decides. 

He pulls Saader into the apartment gently, lets the door swing shut. 'Sorry, babe,' he says, closing the gap between them. Saader is looking less and less uncomfortable, and he's starting to develop that 'you're a fucking moron, but you're my fucking moron' expression that he tends to wear a lot around Andrew ( _totally_  unfounded, if you ask Andrew. Which Saader doesn't. Ever. Rude.) 

'I might be a little bit drunk?' Andrew says, twisting his mouth into a lopsided grin. Saader rolls his eyes, but he's trying not to smile, and Andrew kisses him briefly, just for a second.  

'Hey,' Saader says, soft. Andrew repeats it back at him, grinning. 'So. No Leddy, huh?' 

'Nope,' Andrew says, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. He tugs Saader's toque off, drops it on the table by the front door, tucks a stray curl behind one ear. 

Saader kisses him without warning, slipping his tongue between Andrew's lips almost immediately. He tastes like peppermint. 

Andrew slides his hands down onto Saader's hips, rubbing his thumbs over the ridge of his hipbone. Saader has one hand fisted in Andrew's hair, just above the nape of his neck, and one on the small of his back, the very tip of his pinkie just brushing underneath the waistband of Andrew's jeans. 

He kisses him until Andrew's lightheaded and breathing hard, and then they part, and Saader untangles his hand from Andrew's hair before grinning, sharp and dark, turning Andrew so his back is against his own front door and sinking to his knees in one fluid motion. 

All the blood in Andrew's body rushes south, and he swallows, trying to make his throat just a little less dry. 

Saader mouths at Andrew's dick through the thick denim, rubs his cheek against the rough material, and he's just reaching for the zipper when someone knocks on the door. 

Andrew groans and lets his head fall backwards, clunking on the door loudly. 

'Andy?' The voice through the door is muffled, but Andrew freezes, because he recognises that voice, and suddenly he remembers. 

Stabbing at his phone with a sticky thumb, pouting at the phone when Saader doesn't answer, leaving a voicemail message that he's about ninety percent sure is whiny and not at all seductive. 

Twenty minutes later, Saader hasn't called, so he picks up his phone again and calls Bolly, who  _does_  pick up, and Andrew knows he's getting laid that night and goes right back to taking long pulls from his beer and heckling Kaner from across the room as he tries and fails to hit on Tazer for like the third time that night. 

'Oh god,' Andrew says faintly. 

'Who's that?' Saader asks, rising up from his knees. He doesn't look angry, exactly, but he does look distinctly unimpressed. 

'That would be Bolly,' Andrew says, keeping his eyes shut. He wishes fervently that he could be magically a) sober and b) not hard. 

'Did you call both of us?' Saader asks.

'...Maybe.' Andrew says, opening his eyes. 'There's a distinct possibility that I might have called him after you didn't pick up.' 

Saader sighs, moves Andrew out of the way, and opens the front door. 

Bolly's hand is raised to knock on the door again. His mouth is slightly open, and his gaze flickers between the two of them. He has an armful of Tupperware containers tucked under his other arm, and there's snow on his shoulders and melting in his hair. 'Um.' 

'Hi,' Saader says, smoothly. Andrew decides it might be best to say nothing for the time being. 

'...Hi,' Bolly says after a pause. 

'Well, I'm gonna take off,' Saader says, runs a hand through his hair and shoves his toque back on. 

What, no,' Andrew says, grabbing at his elbow. Both of them look at him. 'I mean...' He trails off. 'Stay,' he ends up saying, lamely. 

Saader raises an eyebrow. 'What, both of us?' 

Andrew... had not thought of that, but he decides it's the best idea ever, and he rolls with it. 'Yeah!' 

Neither of them look convinced. Saader purses his lips, looks like he's ready to reel off a list of reasons why not. 

'Oh, come on, it'll be  _fun_ ,' Andrew says. He's still holding on to Saader's elbow and he lets go of it to grab the end of Bolly's scarf and pull him into the apartment. His neighbours already hate him, he doesn't particularly want them to overhear him trying to orchestrate a threesome while slightly (okay, fairly) drunk. 

Of the two, Bolly looks more open to the argument, so Andrew turns to him and he knows he sounds petulant when he whines ' _Bolly_ ,' drawing the word out until he's added like three extra syllables to it. 

Bolly turns to Saader, raises an eyebrow. Saader's face is blank, carefully neutral. 'I'm up for it,' he says casually, setting down his pile of Tupperware. 'Also, I brought dinner, and I don't think you'll want to go back outside for a while, it's snowing like fuck.' 

Saader looks at him, considering. Then he shrugs, minute. 'Sure. Okay.' 

Andrew's pretty sure he's grinning so hard his face is about to fall off. 'Hell yeah!' he says, grabbing for Bolly's scarf, unwinding from his neck and pressing a kiss to his chilled lips. 

'We're still not fucking on the couch,' Bolly says, wry.

'Agreed,' says Saad. 'That couch is lumpy as fuck.' 

'And it's not big enough for two people, let alone three,' Bolly adds. 

'But,' Andrew starts, but he's interrupted. 

'You have a bed for a reason, Andy,' Saader says. 

Andrew sighs loudly. 

Saader pulls his hoodie over his head, hangs it on a hook by the door. 'You got any rules, Bolly?' he asks, casual. 

Bolly shakes his head. 'You?'

'Yeah. I'm in charge,' Saader says, flashing his teeth in a quick grin, and fuck, it goes straight to Andrew's dick. 

Bolly flushes. 'That seems reasonable,' he says, measured, and like he's trying very hard to keep his voice even. He strips off his outer layer of clothing, dumping his scarf on the table next to the Tupperware and hanging his coat up. He scrubs a hand through his hair to get rid of the snowflakes, and then holds the other one out for Saader to shake. 'Brandon,' he says. 'Call me Bolly.' 

Saader's lips quirk into a smile. 'Brandon. Call me Saader,' he says, shaking Bolly's hand.

Bolly laughs at that. 'So, Shawsy has a type, it would seem.' 

'Apparently so,' Saader says, and they're still holding hands, Andrew notices, Bolly's thumb drawing tiny circles over Saader's thumb knuckle. 

'You know, I am still here,' Andrew says, indignant, and they separate, finally, glance over at him and then they share a look. Andrew doesn't think he's going to like that look. 

Bolly kisses him first, and his lips are still icy cold from outside but his mouth is warm and wet and Andrew shudders when Bolly's hands cup his jaw, thumb nudging at that sensitive spot just under the point, pressing in to feel his pulse. Bolly bites at Andrew's lower lip, tugging at it until he whines, sharp in his throat. He can feel Bolly smirking into the kiss just before he pulls back, biting his own lower lip in satisfaction.  

Andrew glances over at Saader, who's apparently been watching with interest. His eyes, normally pale, look dark and shuttered. 

Andrew reaches out with the hand not fisted in Bolly's shirt, and pulls Saader into a kiss completely different from his kiss with Bolly. 

Saader kisses slowly, deliberately, like he's trying to systematically break down every single one of Andrew's defences, one by one. It leaves Andrew breathless. 

One of his hands is cupping Saader's cheek, thumb just brushing his cheekbone gently, and the other is still tangled up in Bolly's shirt, gripping tight. 

When they part, Saader's eyes stay closed for a second or two before they slowly reopen, and he smiles, slow and easy. Andrew loves him like this, languid and just on the edge of arousal. 

The three of them are standing close enough to press against each other, and Saader turns his head to look at Bolly, who barely nods, and leans forward to press a kiss to Saader's lips. 

It's unhurried, but oddly intimate for two strangers, like they're each trying to learn the contours of the other's mouth. It's so fucking hot, and Andrew feels like he could watch it all day. 'Hi,' Saader says again when they part. 

'Hi,' Bolly says. 'Nice to meet you.' 

Saader laughs at that, gentle and high and Andrew watches the smile spread across Bolly's face, making the skin around his eyes crinkle. 

Saader turns to Andrew. 'Bedroom,' he says, simply. Andrew nods, and leads the way.

-

Andrew pulls his shirt over his head as soon as he gets into the room, tossing it vaguely in the direction of his laundry pile, and Bolly is touching him immediately, pressing flush up against his back and running cold hands over his ribs and making him shiver. He sucks a bruise into the juncture between shoulder and neck, and curves a hand up to run a blunt fingernail over one nipple. 

The other hand is resting flat on Andrew's stomach, just below the belly button. He toys with Andrew's belt buckle and refuses to go near the erection pressing again his jeans. Andrew tilts his head sideways to give Bolly a better angle and actually moans when he sinks his teeth into the tender skin there. 

He doesn't realise Saader's in front of him until he's already on his knees, undoing Andrew's belt, popping the button and then pulling his zipper down with his teeth. Andrew's throat goes very, very dry. 

Andrew's not wearing underwear. It's just one of those days. Saader licks his lower lip, leaves his tongue poking out just a little as he looks up Andrew's body to where Bolly's other hand is curved around his jaw, holding him still. 

'Please,' Andrew says. 'Please, babe, I need...' 

Saader swallows him down and Andrew chokes on the rest of his words. 

Saader is good at a lot of things, but Andrew fucking loves seeing him on his knees, lips stretched wide, eyes fluttering closed. He's fucking beautiful. Andrew reaches down to dig one hand into his hair, tugging lightly. Saader makes a humming sound around Andrew's dick, and heat starts pooling in his belly 

Bolly is still worrying at that spot on his neck, but it's almost absent minded, like he's forgotten it's there, because when Andrew twists his neck to look, Bolly is staring down Andrew's body at Saader and his mouth is slack with want. 

'Bolly. Babe,' Andrew says, and Bolly tears his eyes off Saader and Andrew reaches for his jaw with his free hand, pulls him into a filthy kiss, sloppy and messy and Andrew's probably gonna have all kinds of beard burn tomorrow, but he's pretty sure it's going to be worth it. 

Andrew whimpers when he comes, and Bolly swallows the sound like Saader swallows his come. Andrew's glad Bolly's holding him up, one arm around his waist, because when Saader pulls off and smiles up at him, his knees turn to water. 

'Fuck,' Andrew breathes, dropping his head back onto Bolly's shoulder.

Saad presses a kiss to the inside of his thigh. 'Soon,' he says, voice rough and wrecked and as he rises to his feet again Bolly yanks him forward by the collar of his shirt into a crushing kiss that looks more like a fight than anything else, Andrew trapped between the two bodies.

'I told you it would be fun,' he says when he feels like he can talk without sounding all breathy and debauched. Saader is nibbling on Bolly's lower lip, but he takes a second to roll his eyes at Andrew, which makes Bolly laugh mid-kiss. Andrew smiles fondly at them both, and escapes out from between them to step out of his jeans. 

'Both of you are wearing far too many clothes,' he announces, and they break apart to look at him, look at each other, and Bolly starts unbuttoning his shirt, toeing off his shoes. Saader pulls his shirt straight over his head and drops his shorts and underwear. He's hard, Andrew notices suddenly. 

So does Bolly, who pauses with his shirt half open to take a step closer to Saader, and he sinks awkwardly to his knees. Saader freezes, says nothing. Andrew sits on the edge of the bed and watches. 

Bolly reaches out, puts a big hand on Saader's bare hip, thumb pressing into the crease of his groin. 'Can I?' he asks, soft. 

Saader nods, reaches out and thumbs at Bolly's lip. The tip of his tongue darts out to lick at it, and Saader's dick twitches. 

Bolly presses a kiss to the very tip of Saader's dick before tracing his tongue down the side of it all the way to the base, where he curls thick fingers around it. He licks back up the underside with the flat of his tongue, eyes open and looking right at Saader, whose mouth has fallen open, just slightly. He's breathing shallowly. Andrew's getting hard again. 

Bolly takes Saader into his mouth slowly, sucking hard on the head until Saader's eyes roll back a little. Andrew's been on the receiving end of Bolly's head many times, and he knows exactly what he's doing right now; making Saader crazy with want, inching closer and closer to the edge until he backs up and takes a running leap forward, until your orgasm is punched out of you before you even know you're about to come. 

There's sweat on Saader's temples. His hands are trembling, just faintly. Andrew can see the muscles in his thighs working, keeping him on his feet as Bolly finally swallows him down completely, nose pressed to the coarse hairs at the base of his dick. He stays there for a few seconds, throat working, before he hums, and Andrew watches the full body shudder ripple through Saader, his eyes fluttering shut. 

Andrew curls a loose hand around his own dick, thumbs at the slit until he hisses, and Saader's eyes fly open. 

'Andy,' he says, and his voice is still hoarse and cracked wide open. 'Don't.' Bolly does something with his tongue that makes Saader inhale sharply, cutting off the rest of the sentence. He breathes, harsh and open mouthed for a few seconds. 'Not until one of us touches you.' 

Andrew closes his eyes, takes his hand off his dick and fists both hands in the sheets instead, forcing his eyes open, watching as Saader comes undone. One of Bolly's hands is between Saader's thighs, brushing at his perineum and Andrew sees the exact moment Saader comes, watches his eyes slam shut and his fingers spasm. Bolly stays where he is, swallowing everything, and he pulls off with a wet sound, coughs once or twice, and climbs slowly to his feet. 

'I'm getting too old for this,' he grumbles, sounding just as raw as Saader had, and Andrew laughs, shifts on the bed slightly so his legs fall open. 

'Come on then, old man. I want you to fuck me,' he says, glancing over at Saader, who joins him on the bed, putting his palm on Andrew's breastbone and pushing gently until he's flat on his back in the middle of the bed, one knee slightly crooked. He bends down and kisses Andrew, and there's a faint, bitter taste in his mouth that can only be Andrew himself, and he licks into Saader's mouth, chasing the taste of his own come. 

The snick of a bottle opening makes him jump, and he feels Bolly's weight settle onto the bed next to his hip.

The softness of Bolly's hands is always a surprise to Andrew. He smooths one over Andrew's hip, dipping down onto his inner thigh as he spreads Andrew's legs just a little further before reaching between them. 

Saader sticks his tongue into Andrew's mouth just as the first finger slips inside, the familiar feeling of pain-pleasure that Andrew knows so well nowadays. He moans into Saader's mouth and his hand gropes around for Saader, gripping his wrist as Bolly slow, torturously, stretches him open. 

He doesn't really know when Saader grabbed both his wrists and held them locked above Andrew's head in one hand while he scraped fingernails over Andrew's nipples with the other, but beyond an initial tug to test the grip, Andrew isn't complaining. 

At all. 

Bolly adds a second finger, scissoring gently. Andrew rolls his hips, trying to fuck himself back onto Bolly's hand, but with Saad holding his wrists and Bolly's free arm slung over his stomach, effectively pinning him, he can't go far, and when Bolly withdraws his fingers completely, Andrew whines at the emptiness. 

Saader shushes him gently, pressing a finger to Andrew's lips until he opens up, pushing three fingers inside his mouth for him to suck on. He nibbles on the end of Saader's index finger and watches his face go tight. 

Bolly's fingers are back, feels like three this time, fucking in and out of Andrew's body and when he crooks them, just slightly, Andrew yelps. Bolly chuckles, and moves the hand on Andrew's stomach to run it down his ribs. 'Good mutt,' he says, and Saader looks over his shoulder at that, giving Bolly a questioning look. 

'Andy's a little mutt,' Bolly says. 'Scrappy and scruffy. Does what he's told though, don't you, babe?' 

Andrew nods slowly, biting at his lip when Bolly twists his fingers suddenly. 

Saader still looks considering. 'Mutt.' He grins suddenly, sharp. 'I like it.' 

He bites at Andrew's jaw, nipping tiny marks down the edge of it while Bolly rips open a condom and eases into him slowly. Andrew flexes his fingers in Saader's grip, breathing as deeply and evenly as he can as Bolly bottoms out. He hitches one of Andrew's knees up slightly, changing the angle and allowing himself to settle in between Andrew's thighs. 

Saader kisses Andrew's collarbone. 'You okay, babe?' he asks. Andrew nods. 

'Yeah. Yeah I'm good.' He rolls his hips a little. 'Fuckin' move, Bolly, come on.' 

Bolly does. 

Repeatedly. 

Andrew thinks he might be dying. 

Saader's grip on his wrists tightens as Bolly fucks him harder, and words start tumbling from Andrew's lips as he gets closer and closer, words like  _fuck_  and  _please_  and  _Brandon_ , and Saader's hand wraps around Andrew's dick, jerking him off short and fast until he's coming again, head thrown back and Bolly's not far after, hips snapping into Andrew as he comes, digging his hands into Andrew's hips hard enough that he's going to have bruises tomorrow. 

Bolly pulls out and ties off the condom, tosses it in the general direction of the trashcan and collapses into Andrew, digging his nose into the dip of Andrew's collarbone. 

Saader's let go of Andrew's wrists, and he brings one hand down to run through Bolly's hair, dropping a suddenly sleepy kiss onto the top of his head. Saader disappears out of the room and comes back with a damp cloth that he runs over Andrew's stomach gently, pressing a kiss just above his belly button when he's done, tossing the cloth over the side of the bed. 

'That'll leave a wet spot on the floor,' Bolly points out.

Andrew pulls a face. 'Whatever, it'll dry.'

Saader's stomach rumbles suddenly, and Andrew breaks into a laugh. He pokes at Bolly, who slaps his hand away.  

'Saader's hungry, go get dinner.' 

Bolly makes a complaining sound, but Andrew's persistent, okay. Eventually, he groans and sits up, sliding over the side of the bed and wandering into the hall without putting pants on. 

Andrew can hear him rattling around in the kitchen, and eventually he comes back with the containers, a handful of cutlery and three bottle of water all balanced in his arms. 

Saader moans happily when he digs a fork into one container of what looks like couscous. 'Can we keep him, Andy?' 

Andrew laughs, and stabs at a twist of filo pastry that turns out to be filled with spinach and goat's cheese. 'Sure.' 

'Did you make all of this?' Saader asks with his mouth full. 

Bolly laughs. 'Some of it, mostly it's just leftovers from work.' When Saader raises his eyebrows in question, he sighs and continues. 'I uh, I own Bar 52.' 

Saader turns to Andrew, who has successfully stolen the chicken wings out from under Bolly's nose and is trying his best not to make a mess in the sheets. He's not really succeeding, but he figures he's going to have to wash them anyway. 'I can't believe you didn't tell me you were fucking the guy who owns  _Bar 52!_ ' 

'...I didn't know I needed to?' Andrew says, swallowing a mouthful of chicken. 

Saader whacks him in the chest and goes back to devouring the couscous, apparently a much more important task than continuing to abuse Andrew.

When all the food is gone, Andrew's mostly regained feeling in his lower body, so he takes everything in the kitchen to dump it in the sink, and then he heads straight back to bed, burrowing in between the two Brandons and tangling his legs with Bolly. 

He doesn't usually do this, not with Saader. Bolly's slept over a few times, but Saader generally leaves almost immediately after. He hates doing the walk of shame, he says, and Andrew doesn't mind sleeping alone, so it doesn't bother him, but curled up between the two bigger bodies is perfect and warm and Andrew makes a mental note to never move again. 

Bolly rolls over and throws an arm over Andrew's hip, resting the palm of his hand on Saader's stomach. Saader brings up a hand to lace his fingers with Bolly's, and Andrew just smiles at the sight of it. 

- 

Andrew wakes up the next morning with his head on Bolly's chest and both of Bolly's arms locked around him. Also, one of his legs is still asleep. And there's a faint hangover buzzing at the edges of his vision. 

Andrew groans, and wriggles free from Bolly's death grip, pulls a pair of boxers on and staggers into the kitchen to find Saader blinking blearily at the inside of his fridge. 

'You don't have any milk,' he says. Andrew shrugs. 

'I guess not.' 

'How will I have tea if there's no milk?' Saader asks, screwing his face up. 

'Drink it black?' Andrew says, smacking his hand against the side of his ancient coffee maker. 

Saader looks at him like Andrew's just suggest he drink motor oil. Andrew chooses to ignore him in favour of slapping Bolly's ass as he shuffles past, stealing Andrew's coffee on the way. 'Noooo,' Andrew whines, reaching for it in vain, as Bolly promptly adds three sugars to it and chugs it. 

'I hate you,' Andrew says. Bolly winks at him and pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to Saader. 

Saader looks at it like it's going to explode.  

'Put your number in,' Bolly says patiently, stealing Andrew's second cup of coffee. Andrew considers giving up and going back to bed. 'We should go out sometime.' 

Andrew feels vaguely like he should be offended by this, that they're apparently planning on going on dates without him, but whatever, he's an adult, he can deal with it. 

'If you guys are going to date I demand video recordings of you making out when I'm not there.' 

Okay, so he's almost an adult. Deal with it. 

Bolly looks at him like he's an idiot. 'Why wouldn't you be there?' 

Andrew stops. Thinks. Runs that question over in his head, and decides to squint at Bolly suspiciously. 

'When he says we should go out sometime, he means you too, moron,' Saader says, surrendering and drinking his tea black. He pulls a face at it, and taps his number into Bolly's phone. 

'...Oh,' Andrew says. 'I guess that would be okay,' he says, leaning back to poke at Bolly. 'I'm hungry. Breakfast!' 

Bolly rolls his eyes, but digs eggs out of the fridge and finds flour from somewhere, and even some blueberries that Andrew didn't know he had, and is in the process of whipping up some pancakes when Saader's tea kicks in and he wakes up. Andrew kisses him good morning, enjoying the novelty, and Saader's hands are warm and familiar on his ribs. 

Andrew parts his lips and lets Saader deepen the kiss, and he hears Bolly curse. Parting, they both look over at where Bolly's staring at them, frying pan forgotten. 

Saader lets go of Andrew and saunters over to Bolly, kisses him like he'd kissed Andrew, slow and filthy and exact. Bolly drops the whisk. 

Breakfast burns. 

It's totally worth it. 


End file.
